


locked away (in permanent slumber)

by x (ordinary)



Series: Persona 4 Ficlets [6]
Category: Persona 4
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Choking, M/M, Psychopathology & Sociopathy, but like, trapped in human bodies sort of angels and demons, wheels with eyes sort of demons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-19
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-27 02:54:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5030908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ordinary/pseuds/x
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Adachi and Yu are human, now, or something like it. It'll just have to do. </p><p>--</p><p>He’d asked ‘Don’t you want to have some fun, Yu-Kun?’ not so many months ago, the true power of the boy’s name too precious to use on something so small and petty. Adachi’s true name, too, went unused.</p><p>They were no longer angel and demon, but humans, interested in the machinations of a deity of different tenants, different origins. Curious, hungry, covetous. Adachi was going to find the power beneath the soil, track it to its source by running along its leylines.</p>
            </blockquote>





	locked away (in permanent slumber)

**Author's Note:**

> A continuation of [this](http://archiveofourown.org/works/4601400/chapters/10486140) ficlet that details how they got stuck in human bodies, but not really necessary to read to understand it.
> 
> tl;dr Adachi and Yu were once supernatural, and are now mundane, to watch the events of P4 unfold. Adachi is an ophanim angel, Yu is a dream-eating demon.

Adachi wears his human skin as comfortably as he can, all things considered. It’s long in the arms and tall in the forehead, with eyes grey like a cloudy sky, as if the heavens themselves are obscured. 

But his wings don’t settle, not quite. There’s too many, always rustling. It manifests like fidgeting, he finds, because it’s the only way to control the fluttering of his hundred eyes, the restless beating of his dozen wings. He is something not meant to wear this shape, fragile meat with two arms and two legs and two eyes, limited in every capacity. But, still, he is here: bound in these confines of muscle and bone, his grace folded into a mortal form.

He is, at all times, almost bursting at the seams. His power doesn’t appreciate the constraints: a walking, talking, breathing time bomb, set to blow at any given time, and it tastes like copper behind his teeth.

Yu, to his left, is not quite luxuriant, but it’s close. Sprawled out on the couch with an arm thrown over his forehead, the boy is asleep, despite the ever present danger of the company he chooses to keep. His tendrils of influence filter outwards, slithering like snakes out into the rural homes of Inaba, exerting it slowly, slightly. The slightest whisper of a touch.

The mark on the back of Yu’s neck is a birthmark to his family and a brand to Adachi. They snapped into human shapes and the universe bent to allow it, fitting them in with a history fully intact. 

He’d asked  _‘Don’t you want to have some fun, Yu-Kun?’_ not so many months ago, the true power of the boy’s name too precious to use on something so small and petty. Adachi’s true name, too, went unused.

They were no longer angel and demon, but  _humans_ , interested in the machinations of a deity of different tenants, different origins. Curious, hungry, covetous. Adachi was going to find the power beneath the soil, track it to its source by running along its leylines. 

Yu shifts, twisting until he’s curled into the cushions, muttering. He looks small, like this, curled into himself like a hand turned to a fist. It makes sense, though: his shape is younger. The dearth of years between them is a sight close to eternal, yawning on and on to a time before time existed, when the first creations of the divine had grown hungry, cutting their teeth on niceties and being a disappointment.

He resents him, of course. How could he not? So young, so powerful, so interested in nothing at all except contentment, not at all fixated on all that he could have if  _he just tried_.

With his lip curled, Adachi reaches a hand out to close it around that pale neck, pressing hard on the fragile windpipe beneath it. As Yu thrashes awake, all he can do grin smugly, clamping down  _harder_. The boy’s grey eyes have yellow filtering in around the cracks, threatening to spill from his irises into the sclerae, glittering enough that it casts them both in a soft glow. His powers have flared to life as much as they can while trapped inside of  _flesh_. 

“Good morning, Yu-kun,” Adachi drawls, and does not let go. “Aren’t you  _tired_  of sleeping?”

The answer he gets in response is feral, fingers that should have been tipped with claws digging in around his wrist, prying it away with more strength than thin hands should have. 

“ _No_ ,” he snarls, shaking his head violently to clear it, chasing away the remnants of dreams that he’d been drinking from, greedily taking his fill. The yellow begins to fade as he appends a reluctant “Adachi-san” to the objection. “Did you  _have_ to do that?” 

Yu looks put out, a bit like a compass with nowhere to turn, attuned to nothing. Adachi likes him best, like that, because it means the only place Yu will have to turn is towards him.

“Do what?” he asks, innocent, and shoves himself off of the Dojima household’s couch, fetching two beers, both of them for him.

Yu casts a glance to him, disapproving, and had he been without the binds of skin, Adachi knows that his tail would have been lashing in a fervor.

"You know what," Yu bites out, and shoves off to go clean up in the kitchen, shoulders tense. He can't help but laugh as he cracks open a beer, settling onto the couch and kicking his feet up onto an armrest, stretching out. It's too easy, sometimes. Yu wears an unaffected face, but there's a fury in him that runs down to his core, forged in fire and built up out of hatred. Curious or not,Yu is still  _a demon_ , a fact that Adachi never forgot. It is, in fact, one of his favourite things about the boy: that there's _more_ than he lets on, beneath the layers wrapped around himself to keep him safe. 

But, bound to him, those layers fell one by one, demolished to Adachi's curiosity.

He would have the boy, teeth and tongue and wings, dreams and all, taking his power until there's nothing _left at all_.

 

* * *

 

Yu looks over his shoulder at Adachi, taking in the sight of this strange domesticity, a half-smile quirking his lips. They were almost  _boyfriends_ , the way they acted, and Adachi liked playing the mean one. It made him  _feel better_. 

And so he plays along, because he is patient.

In Adachi's ravenous desire to consume all of him, to harness the power in Yu's bones, to make himself greater because arrogance is programmed into his every thought-- he'd forgotten. Forgotten the very nature of Yu, the eater of dreams. Dreams were _power_ , and dreams were simply a collection of thoughts strung together, twisted by the subconscious, reformatted for easy consumption. Dreams were  _memories_ , and sooner or later, he was going to lose them all-- and with it, his grace, siphoned away until it sings beneath Yu's skin.

Adachi is ancient, vast and almost-eternal. Adachi is blind, victim to his own hubris. Adachi is his, until he is nothing more than human, every memory of the heavens forgotten.


End file.
